


Don't Think It Over

by dazzler



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8230274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzler/pseuds/dazzler
Summary: Victor makes a pretty convincing sales pitch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is all gonna get jossed next week but i Had To. You Don’T Understand.

It was so surreal, sitting across from a man he’d admired since he was small, watching him devour his parents’ cooking. 

As Yuri stared in horrified fascination at half the menu disappearing down his longtime idol’s gullet, he was interrupted by Victor’s poodle plodding over and licking him on the cheek. He smiled as the dog nudged at his face, pushing up his glasses with her nose.

“She likes you,” said Victor, before popping an entire dango in his mouth and chewing noisily. 

“My dog passed away while I was abroad,” he said, scratching behind her ear. “I miss him a lot.”

“Your parents told me his name was Victor?” Victor flashed him the kind of grin Yuri had seen him reserve for fans on the red carpet, except full of rice cake. 

He chose not to dignify that with a response. The poodle flopped down beside Yuri and rolled over, waiting for a belly rub. “...Why are you here?” 

“Mm.” Victor said. He picked up a bone and slurped the meat off it.  “That routine fit you much better than me.” 

Yuri flushed. “I was just copying you.”

“It benefited from being performed by someone more…” He tilted his head, searching for the word. “Innocent. Earnest. It’s a song about a young man in love. You looked like you were in love.” 

His whole face grew hot. “Uh. I.” 

He was rescued by his mother coming out to take away the stacks of empty dishes. “Let me help,” he said, standing and following her into the kitchen. 

But there was to be no reprieve. She rounded on him as soon as they were out of earshot.

“He’s so handsome, Yuri, why don’t you let him stay and be your coach? He’s a good eater too,” she said, holding up the stack of plates.

“Mom,” he groaned.

“Don’t leave your guest waiting,” she said, nudging him back toward the dining room with an elbow. 

* * *

 

After dinner, the two of them stood in the hallway connecting the inn rooms to the restaurant.

“Your parents are excellent cooks,” said Victor. He had not tied his yukata properly after the bath and it was beginning to slide off his shoulder. _The bath_. Yuri kept his gaze fixed determinedly on the ground. “You’ve lived here all your life?” 

“I haven’t been home for a while, but yeah,” he said. 

“Where is your room?” 

“On the right. But we shouldn’t go in there, it’s a mess--”

“It can’t be that bad,” he said, and opened the door before Yuri could stop him. “Oh.” 

Multitudes were contained in that one syllable as the door swung open and he came face to face with himself. Yuri died and was reborn again several times. Victor stepped over the clothes littering to floor to get a closer look at the poster above the desk.

“I really looked like a heavy metal fan with long hair,” he said, leaning forward and squinting at it. 

“I think you were beautiful,” Yuri said before he could stop himself. “Ah, I mean, you look nice now, you look great, but, um.” 

Victor turned and smiled at him, not the flashy one from earlier, but something softer. Gentler. Yuri’s heart did a quadruple salchow into his throat. 

“Your robe’s loose,” he said, and slid his hands over the cloth before pulling Victor down. 

Victor tensed at first, then eased into the kiss, pressing a hand to the small of Yuri’s back. 

“Um, hang on,” said Yuri. He took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand. “Okay, I’m ready.”

They kissed again, Victor letting out a soft breath of laughter against his lips. Yuri shut him up by shoving his tongue in his mouth, but Victor didn’t seem to mind. Nor did he mind when Yuri pushed him back onto the bed, clambering over him and not coming up for air until he felt light-headed. Oh, God, he could feel Victor’s muscles between his thighs.

“We shouldn’t-- I’m your coach,” Victor said, even as he threaded his fingers through Yuri’s hair. 

“No, you aren’t,” Yuri murmured, nuzzling his jaw, “you just showed up and said that. You’re going back to Russia.” 

“Yuri,” Victor said through a heavy exhale. His head dropped back on Yuri’s pillow. His hand came to rest, large and warm, on the back of Yuri’s neck. “Could you get off me? I have to piss.”

Yuri rolled over and let him up, sitting there in a kind of stupor, dick throbbing in his jeans.

Avoiding the gaze of the posters around the room, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand.  _ Is it possible to die from being too turned on _ , he googled frantically. 

“Sorry, I’m back,” said Victor. Yuri tossed his phone into the crack between the bed and the wall. 

“Hey,” he said.  Victor regarded him from the doorway for a moment.  “So, uh, what were you thinking?” 

“Lie down and I’ll show you.” 

They basically reversed positions from earlier-- Yuri on his back and Victor straddling his thighs. He tugged at the catch on Yuri’s pants, then bent over him, hair falling over one eye. Yuri stroked the short hair at the nape of his neck, chest heaving. 

It sent a spike of heat through him, looking down to see _Victor Nikiforov’s_ lips stretched around his cock. Victor's tongue moved in long, broad strokes and swirled over the head, the room filling with wet noises that some distant part of Yuri’s brain worried might be overheard. 

“Ah, Victor,” he gasped, then quickly covered his mouth with his forearm to stifle a moan when Victor slid farther down, arm coming up to brace over Yuri’s hips. “I can’t-- I can’t--” 

He came, biting down on the sleeve of his sweater.  Victor pulled back just enough for come to stripe his mouth and chin. 

“Whoops,” he said, straightening up, and before Yuri could say anything, he wiped his face on a corner of the bed sheet. 

The yukata had fallen off nearly all the way now, and the way it hung off his shoulders and framed his erection was somehow more obscene than him just being naked.  

He took hold of himself, but Yuri reached down to nudge his hand out of the way. 

“Let me.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” Victor sat back and grinned, letting Yuri wrap his fingers around his cock. 

“No, I’ve just thought about this a lot,” he said, giving him a slight squeeze. Victor bit his lip, brow furrowing, and Yuri filed the image away in his mind as the hottest thing he’d ever seen, possibly. 

“You want to tell me about it?” Victor asked, eyes half-lidded, color high in his cheeks. Yuri swallowed. 

“Maybe later,” he said. Victor’s laugh turned to a low moan when Yuri pressed a thumb against the head of his cock. 

“Yuri--” Victor shuddered against him, and Yuri held him close as he came in his hand. 

When he was done, Victor sprawled back on the bed, closing his eyes and letting out a pleased sigh. Yuri hopped up to clean himself off with a tissue. 

“Victor?” he said without turning around.

“Hm?” came the drowsy voice from the bed.

“...I think I want you to stay and coach me after all.”

 


End file.
